


We're Not Gonna Take It

by AllGoatsGoToHeaven



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: ANYWAYS Lets get some actual tags up in here, ENJOY THE STORY!!, Harringrove, M/M, References to the Stranger Things 3 teaser, SMOKING and DRINKING and overall PARTYING, SPEEDING. BLOODY. DEMODOG SLAYING. HEATHENS., Steve tries to take Billy home and it goes south, also FIREWORKS., do what you want with that clue, stranger things, very south, we got some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 04:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18328862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllGoatsGoToHeaven/pseuds/AllGoatsGoToHeaven
Summary: When Billy floored the gas, Steve screamed and grabbed the seat like a lifeline. In one swift motion, Billy jammed up the radio. And Steve Harrington decided he was officially losing his mind. He thought his night had been royally fucked before this.Well, Steve certainly never anticipated he’d spend the conclusion of his night with Billy Hargrove, on the run from Demodogs, while Let’s Hear It for the Boy by Deniece Williams blared from the speakers.80mph, 84 mph, 92mph…“Christ, Billy!” Steve hollered, “Ease up, you’re gonna kill us!”





	We're Not Gonna Take It

**Author's Note:**

> A goofy one-shot that centers around Steve Harrington and his very awry Fourth of July.  
> In which, he winds up facing Demodogs and spewing Hawkins most vile secret to his unlikely ally: Billy Hargrove.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> SaberGhatz

  
·  
  
Summer, 1985  
**"We're Not Gonna Take It"**  
  
_Steve Harrington | Billy Hargrove_

_•_

_The end of Steve’s world as he knew it began at midnight._

 

Let’s just say, Steve has experienced his fair share of _strange_. So he never took _ordinary days_ for granted anymore. In short, he considers it a good day when Demogorgons don’t emerge from the walls. That’s the kind of standards Steve Harrington is working with.

 

And tonight was _certainly_ not a good night.

 

“You ruined my chance with Heather,” Billy declared. “She _stood me up_ after the rat infestation.”

 

“Oh, please,” Steve scoffed, “As if you were such a _catch_ before that.”

 

“The rats aren’t my problem, Harrington. It’s _you_.” With a sigh, Billy lounged back against his Camaro’s dusty hood. He took a long, slow drink of coffee and finished it off with a sigh. “You and the little shits who attracted the rats to begin with.”

 

“How’s your arm?” Steve asked. He peered over at Billy’s bandaged forearm.

 

“Jesus, it’s just a bite.” Billy dismissed, “I’ll be fine.”

 

“Sheesh.” Steve averted his eyes, but not before giving him another once-over. “Whatever, man.”

 

 _Yeah, yeah._ You probably want to know how Steve Harrington ended up in a vacant parking lot, chatting with the guy who almost gave him a concussion last year. Was Steve desperate? No, not _that_ desperate. Lonely? Yes, but that’s _besides the point_.

 

To fully understand how Steve wound up four drinks beyond sober in the company of an equally hungover Billy Hargrove, you need to be taken back to a week ago.

 

Back when flyers had been slapped up all around town, advertising Christine’s upcoming _Fourth of July_ party. Christine was a chick from Hawkins High who had a tendency to host the most extravagant house parties. So naturally, Steve decided… _Fuck it._ He’s got nothing else going on. _Why not?_

 

The only holdback was, he exactly didn’t have anyone to go with.

 

Then he had the perfect idea. He decided to invite his new coworker, Robin, to tag along. Steve brought it up the next day, during a shift together. Unfortunately, Robin said that parties weren’t exactly her “thing”. She didn’t enjoy dancing, or drinking, _or_ smoking. So Steve dismissed the idea and pretended he had other friends to go with.

 

But that was nothing compared to what happened two days later.

 

Steve was sitting in his car waiting to pick up Dustin from the pool. He’d parked pretty far away, in the lot outside. But with no shrubbery to surround the gated swimming pool, Steve had a clear view of what was going on inside.

 

He was scanning for Dustin when his heart lurched at a familiar face. It was Billy Hargrove, wearing tight red lifeguard shorts, strolling about the poolside like he owned the place. Billy, a _lifeguard_? What a _joke_.

 

Billy’s hair was newly permed in tight golden ringlets and his skin looked about three shades tanner from being in the sun. He was engaged in conversation with a girl in matching uniform. Steve was glad Billy had sunglasses on, because he could tell from body language alone that Billy was working his bedroom eyes. By the way the chick leaned into him, she was eating it up. Not that it _mattered_.

 

Steve rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He checked his watch.

 

Five minutes turned into ten. Ten minutes turned into fifteen. And just when Steve was about to climb out of his car and make sure Billy hadn’t _drowned_ Dustin, the kid piled into the passenger seat, _drenched_ from head to toe.

 

“Hi, Steve!”

 

“ _Hey, hey, hey!_ ” Steve snapped. “Get up and put a towel down first, dipshit.”

 

Dustin rolled his head back and let out a _groan_ , before reluctantly hefting himself back outside. He fanned out his Ghostbusters patterned towel to cover the seat, then climbed in again.

 

“Shit, it’s hot in here.” Dustin said.

 

“You’re _welcome_ for waiting on you,” Steve corrected. Dustin was right, though. It was easily over ninety degrees out today, and Steve’s car was so hot that he’d worked up a sweat just from sitting in it. “Where the Hell were you?”

 

“Sorry,” Dustin said, “Hang on.” He stuck his head out the window and yelled goodbyes to his friends.

 

“ _Well?_ ” Steve prompted. He was surprised at how much edge his there was to his tone. Then he realized he was still staring at same pair hovering by the lifeguard chair.

 

“Lost track of time,” Dustin summarized, “I was chicken fighting with Lucas, Mike, and Will. It ended up coming down to Lucas and I, and we were tied.” He made reenacting movements with his arms, “Then he totally decimated me in the final round. It was still close, though! Max was the referee. So, I think it’s biased - Since she’s Lucas’s girlfriend, and all. _Anyways_ , I think I’m gonna challenge him to a rematch tomorr...”

 

Somewhere amidst Dustin’s explanation, Steve began to drift. It felt like he’d been submerged underwater. His gaze sharpened, and time slowed down. As if _every sense_ was tuning in to watch as Heather and Billy gravitated closer to one another. She put her hand on Billy’s chest, and for a minute Steve thought she might actually kiss him. But she pushed him away, _playfully_ , with the most devious little smile. Steve knew that look. It was the same look Nancy used to give him.

 

Then both of their attentions turned. A jolt of fear ripped through Steve’s body, as if they’d sensed he’d been watching. But no, of course they couldn’t see him. Turns out there was a _pool emergency_ , and Billy took it upon himself to dive right in.

 

“Steve?” Dustin prompted.

 

“Oh!” Steve snapped out of it with a smile, “That sounds cool. Really fun, man.” Steve said. He cleared his throat, and adjusted his seatbelt.

 

“Don’t worry.” Dustin said, following Steve’s gaze.

 

“Huh?” Steve turned to him, “Worry? I’m not worryi-“

 

“That girl’s not really drowning.” Dustin reassured, “They just pretend to drown so Billy will pay attention to ‘em. Bunch of sluts.”

 

“ _Hey_ , don’t use that word!” Steve looked at Dustin, gaze hardening.

 

“ _What?_ It’s just a word.” Dustin’s pursed his lips and shook his head knowingly.

 

“Yeah, well it’s got more power than you know, alright?” Steve shifted in his seat. “Hey,” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but curiosity made him gesture over at the pair, “Since you seem to know so much about the girls here where, who’s that new lifeguard?”

 

“Who? The brunette or Billy?”

 

Steve pursed his lips.

 

“I’m just messing with you!” Dustin cracked up, “That’s Heather. I think Max said she got hired when Billy did, like, last week.”

 

“Hm,” Steve commented. “Billy hasn’t given you any trouble, has he?”

 

“No way, not anymore.” Dustin said. “Shithead didn’t even look at us. He was too busy making googly eyes at the new girl to even notice us, probably.”

 

Steve tightened his lip, and nodded.

 

“Anyway,” Dustin added, “Can we get McDonalds on the way home? Please, please, _please_?”

 

Steve sighed and flipped the car into ‘reverse’.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The same trend continued for the next three days.

 

Except for, on day two, Steve picked up Kentucky Fried Chicken instead of McDonalds. And on day three, Steve was hit with the dread-inducing realization that Heather hadn’t been on lifeguard duty since that first day he saw her.

 

On day four, Steve grilled Dustin about it. He ended up finding out through Dustin, who found out through _Max_ , that Billy had ended up asking Heather out. Then on their date night, she “totally stood him up.” No one has seen her since.

 

This whole Heather situation was making Steve nervous. Not like he _cared_ she and Billy had plans to go on a date. But the fact that she was just.. _Gone_. It’s not the first time something like that has happened in Hawkins.

 

Steve couldn’t help but think of Barb.

 

No.

 

Heather probably just didn’t want to go out with Billy. It was understandable. After all, who in their right mind would want to go out with Billy Hargrove? She probably quit her job and changed her name. Steve managed to convince himself that nothing more sinister - or supernatural - was to blame.

 

That is, until he got the call.

 

On day four, Steve’s house phone rang. When he picked it up, Dustin’s voice sounded frantic on the other end. He asked Steve to come pick him up early and told him that rats had “totally infested the pool”.

 

A bunch of people got bit, including Billy, and the place ended up going on lockdown while exterminators were called. Everyone was sent home, as well as the staff. But when the exterminators arrived, there were no sign of rats.

 

It was weird... And not just _weird_.

 

 _Hawkins,_ weird.

 

Steve had been on edge ever since. First Heather, now rats? It was too bizarre. So by the time the Fourth of July rolled around, he’d decided to attend Christine’s party after all. He needed a break from all the bullshit.

 

Steve didn’t recognize half the people there, so he spent most of the night sipping idly on the sidelines and trying to forget the way he’d danced with Nancy under the same roof last Halloween. At least this party had been shaping up to be better than _that_ one.

 

Well, it _was_.

 

That is, until a familiar face caught his eye beyond the swaying bodies. The figure was wasted on the staircase, at thirty minutes to midnight. And no, this time it wasn’t Nancy.

 

It was Billy Hargrove.

 

Steve waded across the dance floor to get a closer look. He was passed out in high-waisted acid wash jeans, and a ribbed white tank top. His usual tight curls fell in loose, battered ringlets. Steve also noticed a bandage wrapped tightly around his forearm. He noted that to be strange. Usually Billy wore his bruises unapologetically.

 

The guy was so out of it, though, the bandage was the last thing Steve was worried about. Billy kept slipping in and out of consciousness, having drunk himself stupid.

 

Steve sighed and looked around at the dwindling bustle. The party was coming to a close at midnight, and everyone was already beginning to clear out.

 

He has no idea why he took it upon himself to bring Billy home. They weren’t exactly on the best terms.

 

Maybe Steve felt bad for him. Maybe he knew how it felt to get pushed aside or forgotten... And certainly no one else was going to help him get home. There was one thing Steve knew one thing for sure: Billy Hargrove is no _lightweight_. So if he‘d passed out from partying too hard, he needed some serious attention.

 

Against his better intuition, Steve ended up snagging the car keys from Billy’s pocket. He carried him outside, then hauled the hefty guy into the Camaro’s passenger seat. Hesitantly, Steve jammed the engine to life and started down the road.

 

He made it half way to the Hargrove household before Billy began to stir. That’s when Steve found out _very_ quickly that Billy wasn’t a morning person.

 

After registering where he was, _who he was with_ , Billy entered a state of absolute _mania_. He tried to yank the steering wheel right from Steve’s hands. He was screaming mostly nonsense, besides the reoccurring theme of, “My dad will kill me if he sees you!”

 

Next came the weirdest part of the night.

 

Amidst the chaos, Steve could have sworn he saw the veins on Billy’s bandaged arm turning a deep shade of _purple_. It happened too fast. It couldn’t have been real. Because in the blink of an eye, it was _gone_. But it distracted Steve so much that he unwittingly let go of the wheel and resigned it to Billy’s drunken tugging.

 

Engine howling, they skidded off into the dirt.

 

Steve didn’t know what to expect. He couldn’t think of anyone more loathsome to be around than a sober Billy Hargrove, let alone a wasted Billy Hargrove. But _something_ about this guy kept bringing him back.

 

Then Billy threw open the door and promptly emptied his guts.

 

“Christ.” Steve mumbled. He was still deciding what that _something_ was.

 

Anyways.

 

Billy allowed Steve to drive him by the coffee shop after that. Just as long as Steve didn’t come to his house afterwards. For some reason, that was a big deal.

 

Ten minutes later, Steve wound up with Billy Hargrove at Brinkson’s Brew. They sat face to face in the booth, sipping idly at their coffees. 11:52 PM, eight minutes before closing hours, in the most bizarre, rinky-dink, coffee shop Hawkins has to offer. Steve tried his best to avoid direct eye contact.

 

Despite the time, the vacant place had some pretty funky music on. Billy had mumbled some comment about it ‘being a diner, not a pub’ then something more about a ‘raging headache’. But Steve didn’t think it was really bothering him that much. That is, until Billy grabbed his black brew, and just _up and left_ him there.

 

Steve blinked. He sat in the booth for a moment to gather the last remnants of his sanity.

 

Then, taking a deep breath of consolation, he slapped a tip down for the waitress and scrambled after him. The last thing he wanted was to be left behind in this fucking place.

 

They ended up finishing their coffees in the empty parking lot. It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and the low haze of street lamps. And with no other shops in sight, hardly any cars drove by this desolate road.

 

They sat together on the hood of Billy’s Camaro.

 

It was quiet. Steve was almost comfortable. That is, until Billy started fidgeting with his coat pocket.

 

“C’mon, take one.” Billy thrusted a cigarette his way, “You look like you need it.”

 

Steve looked at it, then at Billy. And without much hesitation, plucked it from his grip.

 

“Atta boy, Harrington.” Billy’s tone could have been mistaken for praise.

 

That is, until Steve looked up and saw the open-mouthed grin on Billy’s face. “Give me the lighter.” Steve mumbled, extending his palm.

 

“I don’t think so.” Keeping his eye on Steve, Billy reached down and grabbed the lighter from his pocket. He rolled it between his fingers, and gestured to the cigarette. “Put it in your mouth.”

 

Steve sighed and slipped the cigarette between his teeth. And then there came Billy fucking Hargrove, popping Steve’s personal bubble as he slid along the Camaro’s hood and extended the lighter with _gruesome apprehension_.

 

He snapped the lighter to life.

 

Last year, Steve may have flinched away. But not now. He knew Billy’s games, and the only way to _win_ is to fight back. It’s like all he wanted was a fucking _challenge_. Like he got a rise out of testing someone’s limits, until they crumble beneath his fingertips... Or fist.

 

Billy didn’t light the cigarette. Of course he didn’t.

 

Instead, he took his time by dragging the flame under Steve’s chin. Not close enough to burn. But enough to make Steve keep lifting his chin until his neck strained.

 

With nowhere else to look, Steve ended up staring down directly at him.

 

Billy’s eyes were glued to Steve’s neck, bouncing between the moles and freckles on his neck. It’s like he was debating whether or not to snap it. Idly, he dragged his teeth along his lower lip.

 

“Jesus, man-“ Steve furrowed his brow and smacked the lighter away. “Just light the goddamn cigarette already. The Hell’s wrong with you.”

 

“You sure you want it?”

 

“Just do it.”

 

“Say _please_...” Billy mocked.

 

“Don’t push it, man.” Steve mumbled.

 

Billy smirked and lit up the cigarette.

 

With a final glare for good measure, Steve inhaled. Brows raising, he tried his best not to cough it all out right in front of Billy. He hadn’t really smoked since he hung out with Tommy and Carol.

 

Billy’s nostrils flared, clearly amused. “Look at you… What would Robin say?”

 

“Robin’s not here, you prick.”

 

“You’re right,” Billy’s lip tightened, “Robin’s not here...”

 

Steve deliberately exhaled the cloud of smoke in Billy’s face.

 

“Give me a hit.” Billy said, in a tone that _clearly_ stated it wasn’t up for debate.

 

Steve glanced at Billy’s chest pocket, stuffed with a pack of Marlboros. He certainly had enough left for himself. But frankly, Steve wasn’t entirely reluctant to pass the cigarette back anyway. He'd been clean for months before Billy Hargrove showed up.

 

He propped himself against the Camaro’s hood while Billy had his share. He inhaled long and slow, lashes fluttering. He made a _noise_ that felt so loud in the still of the night, a gravelly _hum_ that made Steve’s throat feel dry. Then, Billy exhaled through his teeth.

 

Steve swallowed hard.

 

Billy handed the cigarette back to Steve, then started playing with the lighter. “So what’s a pretty boy like you doing out so late in the first place? Daddy doesn’t give you a curfew on holidays?”

 

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” Steve said. He tapped the cigarette ashes into the dirt.

 

“What?” Billy propped his arm behind his head. “You prefer... _Captain_ Steve now?”

 

“You’re an asshole.” Steve declared. He looked over to see Billy smirking. “And I don’t _have_ a curfew. My dad may be a bit over-the-top, but hey,” he shrugged, “At least he leaves me alone most of the time.”

 

Billy’s brows tightened. He stared at Steve, then snapped his lighter off. And in the blink of an eye, he was hissing in pain and shaking out his palm. “Shit.”

 

“What happened?” Steve asked.

 

“Nothing,” Billy curtly replied. Billy examined his finger and wiped away the drop of blood that seeped from it. _Stupid goddamn lighter._ He looked at Steve, then back down at his hand.

 

Out of sheer desperation to break the silence, Steve rambled on, “Anyways, yeah. He’s always disappearing off on some... Business meeting or a work trip. Conferences and shit. So, you know, sometimes I won’t see him for weeks in between.”

 

“Weeks?” Billy echoed. He looked offended, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

 

“Yeah, I mean - But it’s fine,” Steve mumbled, “My dad’s a grade-A asshole, anyways.”

 

Billy rolled the lighter between his fingers, then pocketed it.

 

“He’s gone most of the time,” Steve continued, “And my mom, she’s… Got this obsession over my grades. And sports, don’t even get me started on that.”

 

Billy’s nose scrunched while he watched Harrington down a long swig of his coffee, then take another hit. He had a faraway look in his eye, like his problems were _so_ _monumental_. Billy watched a stray droplet roll down Steve’s chin, and fought the swelling urge to sock it right off.

 

Steve wiped his lips and continued, “She pushed me to join a baseball team when I was younger, and,” he shrugged, “I did it for awhile, ‘til I sprained my ankle, then... Well, lately my dad’s been on my ass about University and working for him. And I told him to shov-“

 

“Just shut the fuck up, Harrington.” Billy’s voice was gravelly, almost _bored_. But angry nonetheless.

 

Steve turned to him with a deadpan glare, “What?”

 

“I _said_ , shut the fuck up _,”_ Billy locked him in a stare that could cut steel.

 

Steve held his gaze. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Billy suddenly snapped up the cigarette from Steve’s hand.

 

With one last scowl for good measure, Billy took another drag off it. He held it in for a few seconds of utter silence. Then, exhaled slowly through a grim smile. “At least your dad loves you, alright.”

 

Steve’s blinked, unsure whether to be offended or not. He was blatantly taken aback by Billy’s words. “The Hell’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I mean,” Billy turned his head slowly, brows pinched in a scrutinizing stare. He wet his lower lip. “At least he _gives a shit_ about you.”

 

Steve squinted at him.

 

“Get off my car,” Billy waved his hand.

 

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “Come on, Billy-“

 

“I said _get off my car_ ,” He said. “Don’t make me tell you again. Christ, Harrington.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Steve slid off the hood of the car. Then he crossed his arms and faced the temperamental ass-bite.

 

Billy tossed his cigarette in the grass. He leapt down to stamp it into the grass with such a force that a cloud of dirt flared around his boots. He pulled Steve’s shirt, and yanked him close. Steve could smell the nicotine on his breath, and he noticed Billy was _shaking_. “You got any idea how _good_ you have it?” He sneered.

 

“Billy, calm down.” Steve stuck a hand out. His heart was racing, and he couldn’t even pinpoint what the Hell had happened. He was used to Billy having a short fuse. But what he didn’t expect was the way Billy’s demeanor stayed dark, cold. His eyes didn’t light up they way they usually did at the spark of conflict. They stayed dark, _dilated_. Steve pursed his lip.

 

Overhead, a parking lot streetlamp gave a single flicker. Hesitantly, Steve glanced up.

 

“Your parents go out and bust their ass for you. And all you do is complain about them being _gone_? You think six weeks is a long time?” Billy glared, “Try a fucking _lifetime_ , Harrington!”

 

Steve swallowed, unsure whether that that last bit was a _threat_ or Billy’s best attempt at showing _emotion_.

 

“Listen, you don’t know shit about me,” Steve insisted. “It’s not as great as it sounds.” He reached out to push on Billy’s chest, gently.

 

Billy stared at him as if he was expecting a blow to the face. But it never came. Just fingertips, keeping him at bay. His nose scrunched, ferocity steadily dwindling.

 

The cruel part of Steve’s mind almost _wished_ Billy could see into his world. He wanted to grab Billy by the shirt and drag him into his _real_ life. Show him what Hawkins was _truly_ like. He _wished_ Billy could get a taste of the monsters Steve had in store.

 

“Yeah, I bet it’s real tough, Harrington.” Billy sneered. “At least people care about you. That’s all I’m saying.”

 

Billy shoved past him, and Steve spun around to grab his wrist. Billy tensed away, but his eyes were _fearsome_.

 

“You know,” Steve said, “People care about you too, Billy.”

 

“ _Yeah_?” He challenged. “Name one.”

 

Breath caught in Steve’s throat. Billy’s sharp look seemed to pierce right through him. His gaze fell.

 

Then a glint caught Steve’s eye. It was Billy’s necklace, hanging in a v-shape just past his collarbones. He wore it all the time, but Steve had never gotten the chance to find out where it was from. He opened his mouth to speak when an overhead streetlight blinked again, _twice_.

 

Steve froze.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Billy scowled. “Don’t pull that shit, Harrington. The last thing I want is your pity.”

 

Steve hardly heard him. He was staring just beyond Billy’s shoulder, breath snagged in his throat. A terrible pit of dread swelled in his stomach when the light flickered, again.

 

_It couldn’t be. El had closed the gate… Hadn’t she?_

 

Steve stared at the asphalt. His mind raced. Adrenaline made his ears pound, and he fought the panic that crept into his throat. This could not be happening. Not with Billy.

 

“And ease up. If I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you long ago.” Billy _reassured_ with a clap to Steve’s shoulder. Steve curled his lip when he surveyed droplets of Billy’s blood that were now plastered to his shirt.

 

_Blood._

 

Overhead, a second streetlight started flickering. They started twitching, flashing at the same time. And when a third one joined in, Steve cursed under his breath.

 

Billy followed Steve’s gaze. “The Hell’s up with the lights?”

 

“Get in the car.” Steve insisted. He ran over to the passenger side door and yanked at the handle.

 

“What did you say to me?” Billy glared.

 

“They’re coming!” Steve insisted, “Billy, we need to leave, _now!_ ”

 

“What?” Billy still hadn’t moved. He looked at Steve like he’d grown a second head. “ _Who’s_ coming?”

 

Panic spread through Steve’s body when the fourth and final streetlamp started flickering.

 

That finally caught Billy’s attention.

 

“I - can’t tell you! Just unlock the goddamn car and let’s get out of here, okay?”

 

Billy squinted up at the lights, then at Steve.

 

“I need to report a code red!” Steve tapped his palm on the Camaro’s roof, then looked around like some wild _animal_.

 

“You can take your _code red_ and shove it, Harrington. You’re fucking _drunk_.” Billy slammed his fist on the hood, “And _don’t_ dent my goddamn car!”

 

“I’ll explain later. But we need to leave. _Right now,”_ Steve took a deep breath. He took a second to think, to remember what made Billy _tick_ , and settled on the most dangerous topic of all. “Max could be in danger.”

 

An unreadable expression crossed over Billy’s face.

 

Then he bursted into action at such a shocking pace that Steve could hardly process the compliancy before the door had unlocked, and he was successfully yanking it open. He fell into the leather seat, only to find Billy was already jamming the keys in. The engine roared to life.

 

“ _Drive_.” Steve failed kept the edge out of his tone.

 

But Billy didn’t start driving. Of course he didn’t.

 

“ _Hang on, Harrington!_ ” Billy yelled. “You need to tell me what the hell _Max_ has to do with-“

 

Then some massive _thing_ slammed into the Camaro’s hood.

 

“ _What the fuck!_ ”

 

“Oh my god!” Steve exclaimed, voice cracking. “Drive, drive, drive!”

 

His terror must have been contagious, because Billy yanked his car into reverse, and _stomped_ on the gas with such a force that Steve gripped the seat and screamed.

 

Their first attacker was thrown off, but then they ran over something else so _massive_ , that the whole car gave a lurch. “Holy shit!” Immediately, Billy switched to drive and jerked forward, undoubtedly running over it again. He whipped around. “What the Hell hit me?”

 

“ _A dog!_ ” Steve swung his arms to distract him, “You probably hit a dog, just keep going!”

 

“A _dog_?” Billy yelled, “You can’t just go around hit and running _dogs_ , Harrington!” He grabbed his rear-view mirror and thrusted it to the side, muttering something about Steve being a sick motherfucker.

 

In different circumstances, Steve may have been shocked at Billy’s empathy. But he was too busy swallowing the bile in his throat as he watched Billy’s disgusted sneer melt right off his face.

 

He saw it.

 

Both boys turned around, slowly, and peered out the back window.

 

“Shit.” Steve grimaced. He wasn’t sure what scared him more: The fact that a gate to the Upside Down had been reopened… Or the dawning realization that he was going to have to explain Hawkins’ most _vile_ secret to Billy _fucking_ Hargrove.

 

Steve recalled the first time he saw the Demogorgon. He’d walked in on Nancy and Jonathan, who had locked down the Byers house. He would never forget the flickering Christmas lights, the otherworldly _thing_ crashing through the ceiling, and the blind panic that sized his body. It kept him awake, every night.

 

He exhaled the breath he’d been holding. A whole pack of the slimy little creatures were now gathering around the equally repulsive dead one. Five of them... Six. The Demodogs seemed to pour out of the shadows.

 

The boys were frozen in place.

 

“Shit,” Steve whispered.

 

“What kind of _dogs_ are those, Harrington...” Billy’s hesitant voice sent chills up his spine. Because for the first time, Steve heard an edge of _fear_ in Billy’s words.

 

There were eight... _nine_... surveying their fallen companion. Then all at once, they turned their heads towards the Camaro.

 

“ _Get down!_ ” Steve hissed through his teeth. He ducked, but Billy didn’t.

 

His heart was pounding in his throat. It was so quiet, he could hear Billy’s breathing. The guy had one hand on the wheel, but was fixated on the creatures with no eyes. And chillingly, they seemed to be staring right back at him.

 

There was a dreadful silence. No one dared to move.

 

Then all at once, the Demodogs snapped back their hoods to reveal rows and _rows_ of razor sharp teeth.

 

The boys jerked to life in a blind panic, cursing all the while. Steve almost snapped his neck with the amount of force Billy slammed on the gas with. The Camaro sped off, engine roaring as loud as the teens inside. The Demodogs gave chase and bounded after them like a pack of ravenous hyenas.

 

“What the _fuck_!” Billy shouted, whirling towards the parking lot’s exit. “The fuck are those things?” He gripped the wheel tight, then sped right over the sidewalk. The creatures launched after them in hot pursuit.

 

Frankly, Steve was still frozen in fear.

 

“Harrington? _Start talking!_ ”

 

They skidded onto the road, and Billy wrenched his rear-view mirror into place. “If this is some kind of a fucking joke, I swear to God- I swear to fucking God, Harrington! I’ll drive this car off the nearest cliff!”

 

“It’s not a _joke_!” Steve’s panicked voice cracked. “Just go! Go, go, go!”

 

Steve wanted to crane around and see if the Demodogs were still following them, but at the speed Billy was driving, he felt like he was glued to the seat. He looked over and saw they were going a humble _72mph_.

 

“Holy shit!” Steve shouted. He could have sworn they just breezed passed a 30mph sign. Breath short, he dared glance in the side-view mirror. The Demodogs were still on their tail.

 

Billy gripped the steering wheel so tight, that his knuckles had turned white. He kept his eyes straight ahead, on the desolate road. His breathing was labored when glanced over at Steve. “You gonna tell me how _Max_ is involved in this?”

 

Steve felt like his heart was in his throat. Billy couldn’t know. It would put everyone in too much danger. It would be just another person who knew about El, about the lab, and the Upside Down. Not Billy. It was too risky.

 

But Billy had already seen the Demodogs. He already _knew_.

 

“You wouldn’t believe me.” He managed.

 

Billy raised his brows. In one breath, he threatened, “So you’re saying I should just pull over right now and let those things eat you alive, then, huh?”

 

“ _What?_ ” Steve shouted. “Billy, you’re insane!” He held on for dear life when they entered a bumpy expanse of the road. The Demodogs were still tearing after them.

 

“Tell me why you mentioned Max,” Billy insisted. He glared at the vacant road ahead.

 

“Dude, seriously, you could get into huge trouble if I tell you!”

 

“Tell me.” Billy insisted, quieter this time.

 

The Demodogs were gaining on them. The lead dogs leapt at the Camaro’s tail, and began to filter around the sides.

 

“ _Harrington_ …” Billy _rumbled_. He dragged his teeth along his lower lip.

 

Steve’s mouth felt dry. Eyes unfocused, he shook his head in disbelief. Panic made his tongue turn into pins and needles. He didn’t think he could speak if he wanted to.

 

“ _Tell me!_ ” Billy screamed.

 

When he floored the gas, Steve screamed and grabbed the seat like a lifeline.

 

With one swift motion, Billy jammed up the radio. And Steve Harrington decided he was officially losing his mind. He thought his night had been fucked up _before this_.

 

Well, Steve certainly never anticipated he’d spend the conclusion of his night with _Billy Hargrove_ , on the run from _Demodogs_ , while _Let’s Hear It for the Boy_ by Deniece Williams blared from the speakers.

 

_80mph, 84 mph, 92mph…_

 

“Christ, Billy!” Steve hollered, “Ease up, you’re gonna kill us!”

 

“So you won’t tell me, fine!” Billy yelled, “Then I suppose you won’t mind if I hit these things, huh?”

 

By the time they hit ‘97, Steve decided he would definitely rather be outside. Gripping the walls, Steve’s gaze fell. If that will preoccupy him up, then-

 

He shook his head. “Go for it.”

 

Billy glanced over at him, lips parting. Then he stepped on the brakes and veered into the left lane.

 

Bracing for impact, Steve clutched the seat as they lurched to the left. Billy’s door collided into the leading Demodog with such a _force_ , Steve could have sworn he heard its body _snap_. They watched as it yelped and lost its footing, rolling out onto the road behind. Steve’s jaw dropped.

 

The rest of the Demodogs pursued, gaining on them. And the overpowering smell of burning rubber hit their noses when Billy hit the gas again, and yanked the wheel right. He hollered with glee, and in that moment Steve wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: The Demodogs or Billy Hargrove.

 

He slammed into the Demodog that had been running by Steve’s window. It rolled off the road, motionless.

 

…Definitely Billy Hargrove.

 

“That’s how you do it!” He cackled. “ _Ha haa!_ ”

 

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God!” Steve gripped the wall. “This is crazy! _This is crazy!_ ”

 

Billy threw his head back and _laughed_. He gunned it towards a sharp turn in the road, and t _ook his hands off the wheel_. “Start talking, Harrington, or you’re next!”

 

“Okay, okay! Jesus!” Steve’s heart was in his throat, “They’re called Demodogs! From a parallel world - They’re - It’s like a - They’re like worker bees for some super-organism in the Upside Do- _Watch out!_ ”

 

Steve’s cheek stuck to the window when Billy careened to the left. He could have sworn the car tilted on two wheels for a good heart-stopping _second_ before slamming back onto the road. Steve had to unstick his face from the glass, hair thoroughly tousled.

 

“Jesus, I don’t _care_!” Billy slapped the wheel, then pointed at the road. “You avoid the question again, and you’re getting dropped off at the next corner, understand?”

 

Steve looked at him with a deadpan expression. “Did you even hear me?”

 

“I heard a whole lot of _bullshit,_ that’s about it.”

 

Steve glared at him. “No, it’s not _bullshit!_ ” He snapped. “Listen, I’ll explain more later. But these - things - They tried to eat me and my friends, including your sister! And getting rid of the infestation last Halloween damn near killed us all! Now, somehow, they’re back!”

 

Billy looked at him.

 

“Okay!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at a passing street sign. They were finally beginning to reach town. “Take the next left, then head down Eastridge. There’s a cabin that way, and we can shake them down the winding road. Hopper will know what to do.”

 

Billy was still staring at him. It’s like he wasn’t listening at all. His demeanor had flipped like a switch. “You say they tried to kill Max?”

 

“Wh- Yeah, well, she was there when it happened. And they’ll do it again if we don’t get out of here!”

 

Billy’s brows raised. He gave Steve a _loo_ k. Kind of like _catch you later_ , but a little more like _kill you later_. “Tell me the easiest way to kill them.”

 

“Uh,” Steve wracked his brain, shaking his head. He remembered being in the tunnels, how the Demodogs fled from the explosion. “Fire. I guess.”

 

Billy tightened his lip. “I can do that.”

  
“Which we don’t _have_!” Steve warned.

 

Lolling his head in Steve’s direction, Billy flipped the lighter out from his pocket. Then with a surprising amount of grace, popped a cigarette out and slipped it between his lips.

 

He switched into the right lane.

 

“Wait,“ Steve said gaze set ahead on the fork in the road, “Billy, stop!“

 

“Buckle up, pretty boy.” Yanking the wheel, the Camaro peeled out to the right. “We’re going to the Quarry.”

 

“Yeah, _no!_ No, you are not serious!” Steve shouted as they sped past a sign reading: _Sattler Quarry._ “You can’t take these things alone!”

 

“I’m not alone,” Billy affirmed.

 

Steve looked at him.

 

“I’ve got this car.”

 

“Oh, fuck you!” Steve threw his arms in disbelief.

 

They careened down the pitch-black road at an alarming pace. Billy kept his eyes ahead, glaring with determination. He was headed for the cliffside, and Steve prayed he didn’t intent to drive straight off it. He turned around to survey the Demodogs.

 

“Most of them are falling behind,” Steve reported, “There’s still this one, though - it won’t - _Watch out!_ ”

 

The lead Demodog pounced, and car gave a jolt when it slammed into the back. It promptly slipped off, but not before digging its sharp claws all the way down the trunk. He sound of ripping metal was _grueling_. Billy’s jaw locked.

 

“Fuck this town,” he growled.

 

Billy slammed on the breaks. If not for his seatbelt, Steve would have flew through the windshield when Billy launched the car into reverse.

 

Planting one hand behind Steve’s seat as he bent around, Billy stomped on the gas. He smashed into the lead Demodog with a force that left both boys clutching for the nearest object of stability.

 

Billy’s breath was short while he stared back at the unmoving thing. “Whatever the fuck is going on.” He said, “You’re going to _pay_ for this, Harrington. Including the repair bill for my car.”

 

“Oh my god,” Steve shook his head when Billy thrusted the gear into ‘park’. “Billy, stop! I’m serious, man! You can’t win this one!”

 

“The others will be here soon, we need to be ready!” Keeping the car running, Billy threw open his door. He slammed a foot out onto the rocks, and climbed out. “There’s a crowbar under your seat. Grab it.”

 

“What!” Steve needed to make sure he heart that right. Then again, Billy having a handy crowbar was hardly the most unlikely event of the evening.

 

The radio had eased right from the previous song into the next. This time, Twisted Sister’s single: _We’re Not Gonna Take It_. You know, ironically, that’s exactly how Steve felt about this whole situation.

 

“Get back in the car!” Steve yelled. “I’ll - I’ll explain it all! Just get me to Hopper’s place!”

 

It quickly became apparent that Billy _was not_ getting back in the car. “So you wanna help stop these things? Or would you rather _run_ and lead them straight into _town_?”

 

Billy had a fair point. But he had no idea what they were up against. The last thing Steve needed on his conscience was Billy Hargrove getting killed after Steve had picked him up in the first place.

 

He reached under the seat and _lo and behold_ , there really _was_ a fucking _crowbar_ under there. Steve couldn’t help but wonder what else Billy had hiding in his car. Then when Steve reached under to haul the crowbar out, packets of dusty condoms spilled out from underneath the seat. Okay, maybe he didn’t want to know.

 

Steve sat up and took a second to gather himself. He recalled last Autumn, when the Demodogs had terrorized the kids. Back when he’d tried to protect them in the junkyard, and ended up getting overrun.

  
He thought back to Nancy Wheeler. He pictured Christine’s Halloween party, when she’d looked him in the eye and called him _bullshit_. Steve knew she blamed him for Barbara’s death.

 

He couldn’t save Barbara. He couldn’t save the kids. But maybe, this time, he could save Billy Hargrove.

  
His fear began to dwindle, replaced with a tunnel vision of _fury_. He was fed up.

 

Remnants of the Upside Down have been torturing Hawkins for far too long. Sure, he planned on alerting Hopper about Gate being reopened. But he could do that later. First, he had business to attend to. At Christine’s party, Steve had set out on a mission to get Billy home safely. Well, that’s exactly what he intended on doing.

 

“ _You coming, Harrington?_ ”

 

Yeah. He _wasn’t going to take it anymore_.

 

Thrusting up the radio a dozen more notches, Steve hefted the crowbar over his shoulder and climbed out the car.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Turns out, Demodogs have a second weakness.

 

At first, Steve thought Billy was taking it to extremes when he hoisted a gallon of gasoline from his trunk. Then, Billy piled his other arm full of _fireworks_.

 

“Whoa, wait, _what_!” Steve threw out his arm.

  
“What’s the problem _now_?” Billy rolled him a _look_ , then unscrewed the gasoline. While looking Steve dead in the eye, he started dumping it all over the gravel.

 

Steve pointed at the fireworks, “You are not lighting those things off, let me make myself _clear_!”

 

Billy ignored him. He rushed the gasoline in a wide crescent shape, pouring it all around the surrounding area.

 

Steve looked left and right, then stomped after the maniac. “ _Billy! Hello-o!_ ”

 

“You’re right,” Billy turned and dumped the fireworks into Steve’s arms, “ _You_ are.”

 

“Uh- _No!_ ” Steve yelled, looking at the hoard of fireworks in his arms. “No, I am _not!_ ”

 

Billy finished dumping the gasoline, then chucked the container at the ground. He rounded on Steve, pushing his chest. “You got a better idea then, shithead?”

 

“Yeah!” Steve said, “How about _not_ lighting The Quarry on fire!”

 

Billy sneered. He coiled back, before something over Steve’s shoulder caught his eye. “Get behind me.” Gaze hardening, Billy balled his fist in Steve’s shirt and threw him aside. He yanked the crowbar from Steve’s hands and stepped in front of him, scanning the forest beyond.

 

The wind died down, and a distinct sound of scuffling grew near. Even over the radio, they could hear a presence loud and clear. It was as if nature itself had been silenced from apprehension.

 

Steve and Billy brushed, back to back.

 

Steve gripped the fireworks, scanning the surrounding underbrush.

 

Billy? Well, he snapped his lighter and lit up a cigarette.

 

Then all at once, the Demodogs bursted through the bushes, hissing and _ravenous,_ and diving straight for them. Steve hardly had time to yell, “Look out!” Before Billy tossed the cigarette. And in the blink of an eye, the gasoline _exploded_ into flame.

 

“Holy - _shit!_ ” Steve exclaimed.

 

The first wave of Demodogs got caught in the fire. They screamed in agony, writhing and hissing. The boys hardly had time to appreciate the sight before the second wave of Demodogs leapt straight through the flames. Steve ducked, and Billy cracked one over the head with his crowbar.

 

“ _Now_ , Harrington!” Billy insisted.

 

“God, _we are so dead._ ” Steve mumbled under his breath. Then he coiled back and tossed a handful of fireworks into the flame. When they exploded to life, Steve could have sworn he saw his life flash before his eyes. The explosion made Steve’s vision temporarily white-out, and his ears _ring_. But somewhere in the back of his pounding head, he heard Billy _cackling_ over the sound of gunpowder and the howl of Demodogs.

 

“ _Ha ha!_ I knew you had it in you!”

 

Another explosion fired off, and knocked Steve off his feet. But before he could hit the ground, something fisted the back of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. When Billy clapped him on the back, his senses snapped to life. Steve noted that he and Billy both still had all their limbs intact. That’s a good sign.

 

The Demodogs were thrashing amongst the flame. They scattered like roaches from the sound and _flare_ of fireworks. Come to think of it, Steve had a feeling he and Billy should be doing the same thing. But they stayed put, rotating back-to-back between the open flame and Billy’s Camaro. Steve wasn’t going to back down. Not this time.

 

“ _Come on!_ ” Billy taunted. He swung his crowbar at the cowering Demodogs while Steve reached down and started firing rocks at them. One of them leapt right for Steve’s chest, but was intercepted with a swift blow.

 

Whirling the bloodied crowbar, Billy let out a yell and chased after the fleeing Demodog. He swung at it again and, with a yelp, the Demodog fled into the beyond. Meanwhile, Steve lunged for his own weapon. A tree branch. Not much, but it packed enough punch to send a Demodog tumbling. Then he turned and _thwacked_ another Demodog over the head with such precise timing that it crumpled to the ground on the spot.

 

Meanwhile, Billy had doubled over, clutching his bandaged arm. He regained his footing quickly though and, grabbing a broad rock from the Quarry ground, spun around to paint it with Demodog blood.

 

They fought like a whirlwind, back to back. And by the time their lungs had started burning with smoke, heads pounding with adrenaline, the Demodogs were dwindling fast.

 

Billy fought like a _madman_. Steve couldn’t decide whether he was impressed or scared when Billy picked up a dead Demodog and used it to strike another. He was so angry, it’s like he had some personal vendetta against them. On second thought, maybe Billy just had a personal vendetta against _everyone_.

 

The Demodogs began to flee. Only a few were left, snapping dangerously at the boys’ heels before leaping up at them. All across the ground, enough dead Demodogs were littered to raise an alarm.

 

One thing was clear: Steve was going to have to let Hopper know about this. It anything, just so they could cover up the evidence. Because if people happened to stumble upon loads of dead Demodogs in the Quarry tomorrow, Steve didn’t even want to _think_ about what the newspaper headlines would read.

 

“Incoming!” Steve shouted. As a last resort, he tossed the remaining fireworks into the blaze. Almost immediately, the fireworks blew into explosions of color. _Lethal_ color. The Demodogs howled, along with Billy Hargrove himself, whose shirt was drenched with black blood.

 

It was a grand finale, a massive explosion of sparks. Almost all of the remaining Demogorgons scattered at the sight. They retreated into the woods, yelping. All except one, who watched from the sidelines, prowling, waiting.

 

Then as soon as it saw it’s chance, it lunged, teeth exposed, right for Steve’s back.

 

“ _Harrington!_ ” Billy shouted.

 

Steve whipped around just in time to see Billy intercept the monster. He collapsed on top of it, pinning it down with his bare hands. Then he coiled back that bloody crowbar and beat the monster _ruthlessly_. The monster let out an unearthly screech, claws scrabbling but finding no foothold. Billy was screaming, face contorted in such a rage that a shiver darted up Steve’s spine.

 

Even after the Demodog was dead, Billy kept swinging and swinging, spattering it’s blood _all over_ the rocks.

 

Steve watched, clutching his knees as the last of the fireworks sizzled down and the sound of Billy’s yelling grew weaker. His shoulders heaved and tensed, breathing heavy.

 

Steve’s head was pounding. The fire roared all around them, and the boys paused to catch a much needed breath. Aside from the static-laced radio, and the crackling of fireworks, it was silent.

 

They were alive.

 

“It’s over, Billy.” Steve said. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

 

The drive back home was uncomfortable.

 

Uncomfortable in the sense that Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt _more_ comfortable.

 

And he couldn’t believe it was happening in the passenger seat of Billy’s death-mobile. It was bizarre. It felt like he was experiencing that weird _placebo comfort._ Like, what happens after you experience a life-or-death scenario with someone. And all you have in common is that you’re alive - But somehow, that’s more than enough.

 

Steve realized he couldn’t hide the secret any longer. It was pointless to try. So in his state of delirium, he told Billy everything. About the Gate, the Demodogs, the Demogorgon. About the Upside Down. About El, who had almost sacrificed herself to save them all. About the Party, and most importantly, about Max’s part in all of this.

 

Billy hadn’t looked at Steve since, much less spoke to him.

 

So Steve stared blankly out the window, watching the woodland of Hawkins blur by. And by the time Billy lit a fourth cigarette, his fingers had finally stopped shaking.

 

Steve felt like he was entering some sort of catatonic state. Like his night was just _so_ beyond _fucked_ , that he couldn’t process anything outside Pat Benatar’s song, _We Belong,_ scratching from Billy’s speakers.

 

“Shit song.” Billy mumbled, changing the station.

 

“Hey,” Steve protested, without any energy left for malice. He reached over and switched it back.

 

Billy glanced at him. His lip tightened, eyes flickering. But he let it slide.

 

* * *

  

By the time they pulled into the premises of Hopper’s cabin, it was almost 2 AM. They were both exhausted, bloody, and terribly hungover. If it weren’t for his pounding headache, Steve could have easily fallen asleep in the passenger seat. Dried blood and dirt caked his face, and Steve practically felt too drained to leave the car. He looked off at Hopper’s cabin and sighed.

 

Tonight had been unsettling at best, and Steve didn’t want to go home. His parents were gone, and Steve didn’t feel like being alone in a big, empty house. Plus, Hopper needed to hear about the events that took place as soon as possible. That’s what he told Billy, anyway.

 

Billy turned the car off. “You really want me to drop you off _here_?”

 

“Yeah, it’s probably best.” Steve said. “Hopper will know what to do.”

 

“Alright.” Billy shrugged.

 

“Remember, you can’t tell anyone about what you saw tonight.” Steve said, “No one.”

 

“Okay,” he mumbled.

 

“ _Anyone_.” Steve insisted.

 

“Alright, I get it.” Billy snapped. “My lips are sealed, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Steve said. He looked Billy up and down, as if expecting more. Anything. He’d been awfully quiet since the Demodog attack, which was unlike him. It was as if all of his _fight_ had been sucked away.

 

But Billy didn’t speak. He just lit up a cigarette and stared at the road ahead with a faraway look in his eye.

 

“Well… Goodnight.” Steve mumbled.

 

He opened the door and threw a leg out. Then, grabbed the car door and hoisted himself out. Shutting it behind him, Steve waved a final goodbye to Billy, who still wasn’t looking at him. Sighing, Steve stuffed his hands in his pocket and turned to begin his trek. He only got three four steps down the pathway before -

 

“Wait.” Billy said.

 

Steve stopped in his tracks. There was a long pause, as if Billy had _regretted_ speaking out. Steve turned around.

 

“I haven’t been straight with you.” Billy admitted, “And after… All the shit that happened earlier, I think you deserve to know the truth.”

 

Curious, Steve walked back to Billy’s car. He ducked down to peer through the window and noticed that Billy looked blue in the face. He was _nervous._ Maybe even _scared_.

 

“Heather didn’t stand me up.” Billy admitted.

 

Steve’s heart dropped. “What do you mean?”

 

Billy exhaled a cloud of smoke. He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, like he was trying to forget Steve was there. “Four days ago, I picked her up at four o’clock... After our shift,” His voice sounded strained, but he explained slow and steadily, as if he was still trying to process the information. “We went out and grabbed dinner like we’d planned. Then, uh… You know, decided to drive out to Lover’s Lake. Rented a boat out, had a good time. We ended up staying out there way past sunset.”

 

“I didn’t know you were such a _romantic_.” Steve commented.

 

“Don’t interrupt me.” Billy said.

 

Steve sighed, leaning through the window.

 

“Then, Heather wanted to go swimming.” Billy wet his lips and shrugged. “And I thought, _why not_. So we get in the water, and… Everything’s fine for awhile. ’Til suddenly she just… _gets sucked under._ ”

 

Steve frowned.

 

“I dive under to grab her, but it was like she was being… _dragged_ down. I couldn’t reach her in time. In a split second, she was just _gone_.”

 

Steve bit his lip, nervously. “Do you think she drowned?”

 

“She’s a damn good _swimmer_ , Harrington.” Billy insisted, “She’s a fucking lifeguard for God’s sake.”

 

“Right.” Steve planted his hands on his hips. He was lost in thought.

 

“Anyways, I panicked.” Billy said, “I didn’t tell anyone what happened. I thought no one would believe the story. There’s not _one_ pig station in town that would listen a _goddamn word_ I say.”

 

Steve pursed his lip. He wanted to argue that but, quite frankly, _he couldn’t_.

 

“But after I saw those dogs…” Billy added, “I can’t help but feel this _whole... This whole situation, Harrington_.” He finally met Steve’s eyes, “It’s connected.”

 

Only the sonnet of crickets and the hum of Billy’s Camaro broke the silence.

 

Billy shook his head, lost for words. He blinked at Steve, screwing his brows expectantly. As if he could rip all the answers right from Steve’s brain just by _staring_. “ _So what do you think?_ ”

 

Steve’s mind was running at a hundred miles per hour. This was too much. People don’t just _disappear_ in Hawkins without something sinister being responsible. The coincidence was too much. He looked over at Hopper’s place, off in the distance. There were no lights on, and Steve doubted Hopper would want to be awoken at such an hour. But this… It was more urgent than Steve had even imagined.

 

“I think…” Steve swallowed, “You need to come with me.”

 

“Can’t.” Billy said, “Not tonight. My old man will kill me.”

 

“What, your daddy gives you _curfew_ on holidays?” Steve teased.

 

“Shove it, Harrington.” Billy mumbled. “I said, _not tonight_.”

 

Steve decided not to push it. “Okay. How about you come to my place tomorrow and we’ll… We’ll figure it out.”

 

Billy gave a curt nod, and rested his hand on the wheel. “Four o’clock, after my shift.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Steve affirmed.

 

Billy started his car. The engine roared to life, vibrating under Steve’s elbows. He was just about to turn around, but some ebbing _urge_ to say more wouldn’t let him. It felt bizarre just to leave so quick, after what they’d endured together.

 

With the frequent disappearances, there was no promise that Steve even _would_ see Billy tomorrow. And he couldn’t just let him leave without knowing.

 

“By the way… About what you said earlier.” Steve said. “ _I_ do.”

 

Billy turned, brows raised.

 

“Care about you.” He nodded, gaze wandering. “Alright?”

 

Billy smirked. “Just ‘cause I saved your life doesn’t mean you get to develop a _damsel complex_ , princess.”

 

“Billy.” Steve held his gaze. “I mean it. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

 

For once, Billy’s gaze held no malice. In fact, Steve have sworn he saw Billy’s eyes soften. He nodded, then switched his car into _drive_. “See you later, Steve.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed the story!  
> This is a one-shot, so there won't be any additional chapters.
> 
> If you liked it and want to see more from me, please leave kudos and/or a comment!  
> I read all of them, and greatly appreciate it!
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> SaberGhatz


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